Nah, That's Experience
by hurricanecaroline
Summary: A short one-shot based on the end of 3x03. Inspired by Sam's line "Nah, that's experience." My idea of the backstory behind the 'experience' he was referring to. Enjoy!


So I thought I'd write a short fic from the scene at the end of last week's episode. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue. **

* * *

"Nah, that's experience." He plainly stated, allowing their swinging hands to join.

She smiled. He was hers now, and she could touch him whenever she wanted. _Feel _him whenever she wanted. His electrifying touch was no longer dirty or adulterous, it wasn't under the guise of simple professional partnership, and it wasn't through a uniform. An arm around her waist, a thumb along her jaw, a brush of his nose to hers; it was all genuine affection. _Their _affection. Not Gabe and Edie's, not JD and Candace's, finally, Sam and Andy's.

Still, his warm touch sent chills through her. Almost as much as the first time they'd held hands.

* * *

_flashback_

"Sam…" She shook her head, a mix of guilt and exhaustion draining the color from her face.

"You wanna try being normal together?" He asked quietly, smiling at her through the open window.

"How are we gonna do that?" She asked, smiling back at the irony of their situation.

"I don't know." He responded, genuinely unsure. "I have no idea."

Her lips curved into a smile, mimicking his. He tried to suppress the cringe as he leaned over to open the passenger door for her; fresh bruises on his abdomen screaming at him to stop leaning so hard. The look of guilt returned to her face, but this time it was mixed with something else.

He's seen it before.

Her first day on the job when she drew her gun on him. In her eyes after her first kill. When Ray Swann had pinned her in the woods outside of Sudbury. When they'd suspected her dad of killing a parolee he'd locked up years ago. When he'd come out of Brennan's little hideout earlier that evening. The times were few and far between, but he knew what it was on Andy's face. It was fear.

She slowly lifted herself into the warm cab of his truck, tossing her bag on the backseat. She avoided eye contact with him, surveying his torso, scanning his arms, wanting to know where he was hurt. Nothing was obvious from outside of his clothing. She shuddered at the sight of his wrist, having already seen crime scene photos as evidence of Brennan's ruthlessness.

He had always been the strong one. When he was her training officer he had always known what to say, what to do, to calm her down. He was her rock, and reminded her when not to overthink things. Or when the victim was going to be okay. Or when it was just a part of the job. She'd never seen him like this, so vulnerable, and it absolutely _terrified _her.

He watched her face as she took stock of him, making sure he was all there.

"Andy…" He softly began, wanting to stop the thoughts that were surely filling her head.

She closed her eyes. "Sam… I…" Shaking her head, she was at a loss for words. He knew what she was thinking.

"If my cover getting blown had anything to do with you, you would be dead." He stated matter-of-factly, startling her. He didn't mean to scare her, but he needed her to know that it wasn't her fault. That everything was okay, and she wasn't to blame herself.

"It was the boat." He continued, pleased that she finally made eye contact with him. "God's Good Grace. It was seized in a well-publicized drug bust a couple months back. If that moron hadn't given it to me, Brennan would have never known." She relaxed a little, but he knew she was still unsure.

"You're a good cop. This had nothing to do with you." He repeated, trying once again to reassure her.

He reached over and put his good hand under her chin, tipping it up to look at him.  
"I'm fine. You're fine. Everything is gonna be fine, Andy." He calmly reassured her, his dark, smoldering eyes boring into hers. She swallowed hard, nodding back at him.

He pulled the truck away from the curb, good hand resting on top of the steering wheel. They rode in a comfortable silence, both understandably exhausted. Sam stopped the truck at the corner store near his house, Andy insisted on running in to grab the essentials. Sam graciously complied, resting his head against the seat while he waited for her.

"That dumbass!" She exclaimed when she got back in the truck. Apparently shopping for groceries had given her time to brood.

"He could have gotten you killed. I'm embarrassed that he calls himself a cop. I mean who does he think he is?" Hands gesticulating wildly, Andy vented, releasing all of the pent-up anger that Sam's explanation had incited in her. He smiled, loving every minutes of her totally justified rant.

"Cocky, arrogant son of a-" She simply shook her head in disgust.

"I should go to his house and…" Sam looked over at her, raising his eyebrows in amusement. Andy blushed.

"Now _that…_" he said, chuckling, "I would pay to see."

"I could take him." She yawned, settling back in the seat.

"Sam…" he looked over, her somber expression had returned. "I was _so_ worried about you. I don't know what I would do. If… I mean…"

"Andy." He looked over at her, waiting for her to look back up at him. She reluctantly complied, holding his deep gaze as he opened his mouth, struggling to explain what he was feeling. Stifling a cringe, he took his casted wrist off of the door where it had been resting, placing it on top of the steering wheel. He took his good hand and reached to her lap where she had been nervously fidgeting. He grabbed her hand, interlocking their fingers.

All of a sudden, relief washed over her. She could feel him. His warm touch showed her that he was there. They were together, and everything was going to be fine. She let out a huge exhale and weakly smiled back at him. He always knew exactly what would comfort her.

"I'm right here." He squeezed her hand gently, smiling back at her.

_end flashback_

* * *

She smiled in response, holding onto his hand as they entered the parking lot. Yeah, he was right.

* * *

The End.


End file.
